No Angel
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: The Man Who Would Be King missing scene: An angel dropped by, it might be the end of the world, and Dean's feeling guilty for it all. Just another evening at Bobby's.


**No Angel**  
K Hanna Korossy

He came awake in an instant, immediately alert for what had roused him.

The murmur of voices from downstairs wasn't particularly strident, however, and Sam heard his brother's deep rumble in the mix. He was just wondering why Bobby and Dean conversing, or even arguing, would have woken him, when he realized the second voice wasn't Bobby's.

Sam rolled silently out of bed, hand hesitating over, then grasping the angel sword sticking out of the weapons duffel.

His eyes flicked to the clock as he passed it: almost four in the morning. Dean had either crashed on the couch downstairs again or had stayed up late, drinking and worrying. Not that he didn't have plenty of cause, with their confrontation with Castiel that evening. To find that not only had the angel been lying to them all this time, but was even working with Crowley and had been the one to bring Sam back... Sam was troubled and mad and disgusted, but Dean, Dean clearly felt betrayed. Even after they'd stayed up late angel-proofing Singer Salvage, Dean had begged off sleep, too wired and disturbed to head upstairs. He'd even turned down the offer of beer and mindless TV with Sam, so Sam had reluctantly turned in. One of them had to be clear-headed for what the next day held.

He was sorry now he hadn't stayed up to keep Dean company, and stand watch.

The voices, rising in anger as he'd crept down the stairs, fell to a grave hush when Sam approached the doorway of Bobby's study. He'd only made out a few words—_stop, angel, brother_—but he already knew what the argument was about. Castiel had come to appeal to the person he was closest to. And Dean would not budge. Sam's hand flexed around the blade as he pressed himself against the study wall.

Just in time to hear the flutter of angel wings that heralded Cas's departure.

Sam huffed in silent frustration. Too late to help with Castiel. Could he still help Dean? Or would it be better if he pretended he hadn't heard, let Dean have some space to deal and then catch up in the morning?

"You gonna stay out there all night?" Dean called out, clearly talking to Sam this time.

Sam smiled, shook his head at his stupidity in thinking his brother wouldn't know he was there, and straightened from the wall. His stride into the room would've been casual if he hadn't been holding a sword at his side.

And apparently sporting an impressive case of bed head, if Dean's eyes, and then mouth twitching upward was any indication.

But "you heard" was all his brother said, more statement than question.

"Not what he said, just that he was here." Sam frowned as he combed a hand through his hair. "How'd he get past the wards, anyway?"

"Looks like we got a few things wrong." Dean washed his hand down his face, over slightly puffy eyes. He must've been sleeping when Cas had arrived, after all. "Don't think it really matters now."

Sam hesitated. "He, uh...explain anything?"

"Oh, yeah." Dean gave him a look, then stepped over to Bobby's desk. The glass there had who-knows-what in it, but Dean didn't hesitate to tip some of the bottle of Jack next to it into the glass. "He explained everything. Like how he's doing it 'all for me.'" He picked up the glass and gulped its contents.

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Yup." The glass thunked down. "Says he learned all about free will and rebellion from me, so now he's just...following my lead."

Sam shifted on his feet, cocked his head, trying to comprehend. "Wait, so...somehow he thinks he's, I don't know, doing you _proud_?"

"I guess. I don't know." Dean gave the bottle a longing look but reached up to rub his forehead instead. "Hey...what if he's right?"

Sam's confusion dissolved into anger. Not so much at his brother, who had far worse of a bleeding heart than the one he always accused Sam of hiding. But at the _friend_ who'd made Dean question himself like this. Dean had always been most vulnerable to the ones he loved. "Right," Sam said harshly, because Dean wouldn't respond well to concern right now. "'Cause you were the one who told him to go to Crowley, and to bring me back without a soul."

"No," Dean said quietly. His eyes came up to meet Sam's. "But I made a deal with the Devil once. And, Hell, we were working for Crowley earlier this year, too."

"Because he threatened to send me back to the _Cage. _Because you..." He couldn't finish. Couldn't rub in Dean's face that his biggest sacrifices, the most questionable things he'd done, had been out of need and love of his brother.

"Yeah, well, Cas thinks he's saving the world, saving _us_."

"By putting _everything_ in danger and lying to us about it. Dean, he's in bed with Hell, willingly. I've been there, all right? Nothing good comes of it."

It was the first time he'd brought up Ruby since...he could remember, actually.

And it didn't go unnoticed by his brother.

Dean softened, the way he always did in face of Sam's guilt if never his own. "So basically you're saying we've all screwed up." He was pushing for levity, but at least he was pushing again. Passivity never looked good on Dean.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Basically, yeah. But instead of learning from our mistakes, Cas's just repeating them. Doesn't put you on the hook for it, man, or me. Just means he's making his own screw-ups."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Putting out the welcome mat to Purgatory? That's one freakin' big mistake, dude."

"Only kind we make," Sam said with a wry smile.

Dean sighed, reaching again for the Jack. This time, however, he surprised Sam by extending the glass to him. "Just another day at the office, huh?"

Sam took it with only a little reluctance, accepting the finger of liquor Dean poured and clinking his glass to the bottle Dean tilted at him in toast. "The end of the world? Pretty much."

Dean started to take a drink, paused. "How many times does this make, anyway?"

"Uh." Sam also froze, the glass at his lips, nose wrinkling at the smell. "Four? Does the Devil's Gate count?"

Dean made a face, lowering the bottle. "I dunno, that was epic, but end-of-the-world?" He held out a hand and teetered it side-to-side, _maybe-maybe not. _"What about the Croatoan bug?"

"Definitely Croatoan."

"There were the seals..."

"Eve."

"Right, can't forget that bitch. What about Lilith and the Horsemen?"

"Eh..."

They were still arguing when Bobby yelled down at them to shut up and go to sleep.

**The End**


End file.
